the beginning of the end
by katiebear683
Summary: She couldn't help but wonder though, that with this particular decision, shouldn't the answer be instantaneous?


Disclaimer: Don't own them. Any mistakes are mine.

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><p>"Josh asked me to marry him," she said quietly.<p>

To any casual observer, the remark was made offhandedly. If you knew her, however, it was anything but. It was late, the precinct was quiet. The day had been filled with paperwork and coffee breaks and perhaps an unsanctioned poker game. Slow day preceding a slow night.

"Oh?" replied her companion, eyes still focused on the phone in his hand and the game he'd undoubtedly been playing.

Had she not been watching him closely, she would have missed the split second of shock that registered on his face before his features settled into a blank expression. Had she not been watching him closely, she would have missed the hurt that flashed through his blue eyes before they too went blank.

"Yeah," she sighed, almost unsure now where to take this conversation. "I haven't given him an answer yet."

"Yet?" he asked just as quietly as she had started.

"He told me he didn't want me to answer right away. He told me to take some time and think about it."

It was a testament, she supposed, to how well the doctor had come to know her. He had known that she did not respond favorably to making life altering decisions without careful forethought. She couldn't help but wonder though, that with this particular decision, shouldn't the answer be instantaneous? Perhaps it was the romantic in her; the side she rarely ever let see the light of day, that always believed that when asked by the right person, she wouldn't need to take time to think, she would just know.

"Oh, well, you're going to say yes, though, right?" he asked, still quiet, but loud enough to derail her inner thoughts.

"I don't know, Castle. I suppose so. It's the right thing to do."

And it was, too. Wasn't it? Josh had stayed for her. He had been there, throughout her recovery. He had put his life on hold, his career on hold, so that he could help her heal, help her become whole again – or as whole as she thought she could be. He was a good man, and he loved her. She ignored the little voice that pointed out all of that could also describe Castle.

"Because you love him?" his question brought her once again out of her thoughts.

"Right," she answered after some hesitation.

"Right, well then, congratulations," he offered her with a small smile.

"Cas-" she started, but was interrupted by his phone pinging, alerting them to a new message.

She watched his eyes soften just a bit as he read the text. She knew the conversation was over.

"That was Alexis," he informed her unnecessarily. "I have to go," he said as he got up and started towards the elevator. His shoulders were tense and he held his eyes straight ahead, not looking at her and not waiting for her response.

Something in her chest twisted painfully as she watched him walk away. She almost convinced herself it was just the residual ache that assaulted her body from time to time since the shooting. Almost. But she couldn't help but feel a sense of finality in his stance as he waited for the lift.

"Rick?" she called after him as he stepped into to car, not acknowledging at the slight tremble of fear she was unable to mask in her tone.

She watched him pause, still tense, and take a fortifying breath. He turned around and reached a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. When he finally looked at her, his face was set in a carefully cool expression.

To any casual observer, the smile on his lips was confident. If you knew him, however, it was anything but.

"This is a good thing. I'm happy if you're happy, Kate. And Kate, you deserve to be happy."

She nodded then, not necessarily in acquiescence of his statement, but because it was the only gesture her mind was able to make. She was momentarily struck by, not only the echo of a prior conversation-one they never talked about-but also by the whisper of a memory.

He took her nod as agreement.

"I'll see you, Detective."

"Tomorrow?" her question laced with hopefulness reminiscent of another time, another departure, another conversation that wasn't discussed.

He didn't answer her this time; he just let his hand fall away from the doors. As they shut, he gave a sad smile that did little to reassure either of them.

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><p>Not sure how I feel about this, but it wouldn't leave me alone, so there it is.<p> 


End file.
